


With a Face of All Eyes

by AlmyranGold



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Essentially tiny Claude gets kidnapped and meets tiny Hilda, Friendship, Gen, Gloucester is a Terrible Person, Hilda Valentine Goneril is also a Little Shit, Pre-Canon, Rated T for mild language and violence, They're Little Shits Together, no beta we die like Glenn, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmyranGold/pseuds/AlmyranGold
Summary: In Imperial Year 1170, Holst Goneril finds a young Khalid unconscious in the aftermath of a battle with the Almyrans. He brings him back to Goneril territory as a bargaining chip, but soon discovers that the youngest Prince of Almyra is difficult to keep caged.Hilda is a young noble girl bored of always waiting for her brother to come home. This young prince might seem odd to her, but he's still someone new to talk to.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Small warning for a depiction of injury in this fic! Someone falls and breaks their leg/busts up their face pretty bad. I don't think it's that graphic, but I wanted to give a heads-up anyways!

It was a well-known adage around the Goneril estate; when Hilda was angry, stay out of her way.

Newcomers might laugh when they saw the girl storming down the halls, pink pigtails flopping behind her, but that was a mistake. If she didn’t curse you out herself (and she had a vocabulary that an eight-year-old noble girl definitely shouldn’t), Holst would come dashing to her side at any moment and grill anyone in the vicinity on what they had done to “upset his poor baby sister.” More than one maid had found herself at the end of an hour’s long lecture between the two Goneril siblings.

So that day, when the servants heard her stomping towards them, they quickly dispersed and pretended to be busy in other rooms. Unfortunately, the gatekeeper wasn’t supposed to shift locations for another hour, so he found himself face-to-face with three-foot-seven-inches of rage in a cute pink package.

“Where is my brother?” the girl demanded, hands flying to her hips.

“He’s only just returned from the border, my lady,” he said.

“He told me he was going to come see me as soon as he got back home. The very minute.” She stretched out the last three words, as if Holst would appear at the end of her sentence.

“I’m sure he will come to see you as soon as he is able, my lady. But I believe he and your father had some business to attend to-”

“Where are they?”

“Last I heard they were still down in the infirmary- no, my lady, you aren’t supposed to go-”

But Hilda had already turned from the guard and stormed up the nearest stairs.

She only had to make a few turns before she saw her father and brother at the end of the hall, standing near the infirmary's doorway with a few guards and soldiers. She advanced towards them, heeled boots clicking against the floor.

“-Probably won’t know much of use, but you never know. And he could be useful in other-”

“HOLST!” Hilda screeched, causing most of the men to jump, including her brother. He turned to his sister and grimaced. 

“Hilda, I promise I’ll be downstairs in just a few minutes-”

“You promised me you’d come see me first thing! You said you were gonna bring me a present.” Hilda gave her brother one of her world-famous pouts as she glared at him.

Holst bent down and easily scooped up his little sister. “I was going to come see you next. But we’ve been very busy.”

“With what?” She looked around the room, and her eyes fell on a figure collapsed on the nearest bed. He looked about her age, and probably about her height too, though it was hard to tell when he was laying down. He was probably Almyran, based on his tanned skin and yellow-and-green headband wrapped around his mess of dark curls. Hilda could see where a misshapen dark bruise was forming under his eye. It wasn’t a totally foreign sight - the Gonerils sometimes took in defeated young Almyran soldiers as servants - but she didn’t see why both her brother and her father would be needed just for what. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Hilda, this is Khalid Quadir,” her father said.

She scrunched up her nose in thought. The name sounded familiar, but she wasn’t quite sure why. “Oookay?” she replied.

“He’s the youngest prince of Almyra,” Holst explained.

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ as she looked back at the boy. She noticed now that his clothes were fancier than most Almyran clothing she’d seen - lots of gold accents and colorful fabric. But it was also ripped in several places, and he was too scrawny to be a prince, in her opinion. She said as much to her brother, and he laughed lightly. “He’s been through it the last few days,” he said.

Her father nodded, a small frown on his face. “It seems that idiot king decided he needed a taste of the battlefield. He was kicked in the head by a wyvern during their retreat, and no one seemed to notice his absence. He’s been in and out of consciousness the entire trip back.”

“Is he gonna die?” she asked. Her tone wavered slightly on the last word, and she looked back to her brother.

“Our healers say he’ll most likely be fine. He has a concussion for sure, but they don’t think it’s life-threatening. They’re more concerned about memory loss.”

As if to prove he wasn’t dying, the boy rolled over. Hilda watched him curiously, but he didn’t seem to wake. 

“Okay, kiddo, we should get you out of here. I’ll be down in a little bit with your present, okay?” Holst sat her down as he spoke.

“Okay,” she agreed, still staring at the boy in the bed. She kind of wanted to see if he’d wake up, but she also hated the smell of the infirmary. So she ran out of the room and vowed to make Holst tell her when he woke up.

The boy ended up waking the next day. Fortunately, Hilda happened to be keeping Holst company while he discussed the boy’s status with a nurse. He sat up with a giant groan and rubbed his eyes, flinching when he made contact with his bruise. Hilda had been sitting on the back of Holst’s chair, and without thinking, she hid herself behind her brother and peeked out from around him.

Green eyes scanned the room as the boy took in his surroundings. Finally his gaze settled on Holst, and he opened his mouth. Hilda didn’t know what he said - she assumed he must be speaking Almyran.

“Shit. I need to go get the translator.” Holst hopped up and dashed out of the room, leaving Hilda exposed. The boy looked over to her as Holst disappeared through the doorway.

The two considered each other for a moment. Hilda felt like she was being judged, just like she did when Count Gloucester and the other stuffy nobles came to visit her father and remarked on how “energetic” she was. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed. They continued to stare at one another while the nurse bustled around, preparing the medicines they hadn’t wanted to give the boy in his sleep.

Finally Holst reentered, pulling along one of their Almyran translators. The translator immediately bent down to the boy’s level and said something to him in Almyran. He responded, and she turned back to Holst. “He’s asking where he is.”

“The infirmary at the Goneril estate,” Holst replied. The translator relayed this to the boy, and his face shifted to one of horror for a single moment. He took a deep breath and returned his face to a neutral look before speaking to the translator again.

“He wants to know if you’re Duke Goneril.”

“No. I’m his son, Holst.”

This was relayed to the boy, and he replied quickly. “He asks if you know his name,” the translator said.

“You’re Prince Khalid,” Holst said. 

As soon as he heard his own name, Khalid hung his head. Then he spoke to the translator again. “He asks if he is to be your prisoner,” she said.

Holst thought about that for a moment. “Not exactly… well, just tell him that he’s going to be well cared for.”

He probably meant the vague answer to be assuring, but as soon as he heard it, Khalid recoiled and tried to climb out of the bed. Both the nurse and Holst jumped up to stop him, but he didn’t get far anyways. He swooned almost as soon as he was on his feet, and the nurse quickly caught him and set him back into the bed. “Some of the painkillers we gave him can cause vertigo,” she explained.

“Please, I need you to stay down. I promise you you’ll get food, water, and a nice bed until we can work out the details with your father,” Holst said. 

Khalid shook his head and spoke again. “He says he’s not the heir to the throne. They aren’t going to want to bargain for him,” the translator said.

Holst frowned. “You’re still the current queen’s son, are you not? Surely she will want you back home.”

But Khalid had clammed up, and merely looked at Holst with an unreadable expression. When the translator pressed him to respond, he just turned his nose up slightly and played with his headband.

Holst sighed and scooped up Hilda. “C’mon, Hil. I need to tell father about this anyway.” He looked back to the other women in the room. “I need you two to stay here until my father arrives. Don’t let him get out of bed again.” They nodded as Holst and Hilda left the room.

-

Hilda saw the boy again three days later, when he fell out of a window. 

She and one of the maid’s daughters were playing in the gardens, trying to see who could build the best stick tower. Hilda was intensely focused on perfectly threading a leaf through a stick to make her tower’s flag when the other girl cried “Look!” She followed the line of her finger to see a dark head of hair poking out of a fourth-floor window, looking down at the ground as if judging its height.

“Who is that?” she asked. Hilda didn’t answer - she just watched as the head retreated, and a leg poked out a few seconds later to find its footing on the railing. The boy grabbed the windowpane and pulled his other foot up to the railing as well, completely climbing out a moment later.

“Oh no! He’s gonna hurt himself!” her playmate cried, jumping up and down anxiously. “I’m gonna get help!” She ran off as she shouted the last sentence. Hilda simply continued to watch the boy, curious.

He seemed oblivious to his onlookers as he inched himself to the edge of the railing. There was a moment’s pause before he released the windowpane and launched himself to the left. Hilda’s heart nearly stopped as he fell through the air. By sheer luck, he managed to grab the awning of a third-floor window, his body jolting at the sudden stop. He carefully placed his feet on the railing there, and Hilda took a deep breath of relief. Her stick flag lay on the ground, entirely forgotten as she watched the boy ready his next leap.

He had barely made the first leap, and he didn’t plan on making that mistake again. He pushed off the railing with more force this time, but hadn’t gotten the angle quite right. Rather than being within arm’s reach, the awning smashed into his nose, and he plummeted to the ground. His legs hit the dirt with a thud and an awful crack that could be heard from where Hilda sat.

She ran to the boy as quickly as quick as her legs would carry her. One of his legs was bent at an angle that made Hilda feel sick, and blood gushed from his nose and covered his face. She tried through her panic to remember anything from the first aid lessons her nursemaid had given her.

'You’re supposed to cover something if it’s bleeding, right?' she thought. Having no better options, she gently lifted the boy’s head and reached around to untie his headband. His eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head up more, staring at Hilda with fear in his green eyes.

“Shh, I’m helping you. Your name is Khalid, right?” she asked. He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it and gave a weak nod instead.

“My name’s Hilda. I’m trying to help.” She re-tied the headband around his nose, though she couldn’t tie it very tight without moving him more. Red splotches quickly began to stain the yellow fabric. Khalid still stared at her. When she pulled back from the headband, he pointed weakly towards his broken leg.

“I know,” she said. “I can’t do anything about that. But I think a grown-up’s coming to help.”

This seemed to soothe him, and he closed his eyes and laid his head back down. Hilda suddenly heard voices behind her, and turned to see her playmate dragging one of the guards their way. “His leg’s broken and he’s bleeding!” she called to them.

The guard quickly brushed her aside and examined Khalid himself. “Shit,” he muttered. “Did he fall out the window?”

“He was on the third floor,” she confirmed.

“You-” the guard pointed to Hilda’s playmate- “go get the nearest guard, the one by the north interest. My lady, you should go get a healer.”

Hilda nodded, too panicked to think of being stubborn. She flew back into the estate and up the stairs, nearly tripping as she rounded the corner to the infirmary. She threw open the door and found the nurse scrambling around the room, probably trying to find out where Khalid was. The nurse looked up and made eye contact with Hilda. “Khalid - in the yard - he fell-” she panted. The nurse nodded and followed her out the door.

By the time they got there, the second guard had already joined. The two of the carried Khalid horizontally between them, the first guard careful to keep his twisted leg straight. The nurse laid a hand on the boy’s chest and cast a preliminary healing spell before ordering them to take him back to the infirmary.

As soon as the guards disappeared with Khalid, Hilda sank to her knees, suddenly exhausted. She was vaguely aware that her playmate was speaking to her, but she ignored her in favor of staring at the dark red stain in the dirt.

One of the guards must have told Holst what happened after they’d delivered Khalid, because he came rushing towards Hilda minutes later. “Hilda! Are you okay?!” he asked breathlessly, bending down to her level.

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and held her arms out. He picked her up gently, repeating the words, “It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

He seemed to know that she’d be restless until she knew Khalid was okay, because he immediately carried her up to the fourth floor and sat with her on the rickety chair outside the infirmary door. They sat there for what felt like hours before the infirmary door opened, and the nurse peeked out at them.

“My lord,” she bowed to Holst. “We’ve stopped the bleeding and put his leg in a splint. He’s sleeping now. You may come in, if you wish.”

He wordlessly followed the nurse through the doorway, still carrying his sister. They stopped right beside Khalid’s bed and looked down at the boy. Some blood was still matted into his low-hanging curls, and his headband sat on the nightstand beside him. As they watched, he frowned and tried to roll over, but winced as he turned on his bad leg.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Hilda asked.

“We think so. Although it is concerning that he’s suffered another head injury on top of his previous one. We’re keeping an eye on his vitals, but we expect he can recover. He’s going to need rest, though.”

“Should he be sleeping with a head injury?” Holst asked.

“The spells we’ve cast are meant to prevent a coma as well as repair damage while he sleeps. There’s always a risk, but we’ve done what we can.”

Holst nodded. “See, Hilda? He’ll be just fine.” 

But Hilda had already fallen asleep in his arms, head resting against his chest.

She followed Holst into the infirmary the next day. The boy sat wide awake in his bed, and turned to fix his eyes on the two as they entered with the translator.

“Good morning, Khalid. How are you feeling?” Holst asked. The translator repeated the greeting and waited for Khalid’s response. “He says his head still hurts.”

“I’d imagine. Hilda said you smacked your face pretty badly.” 

Something occurred to Hilda then, something that had been lost in the chaos of yesterday. She tugged on Holst’s arm. “He understands what you’re saying.”

“What?” Holst said, looking down at his sister.

“Yesterday, before the guard got there, I was talking to him and he knew what I was saying. I think he speaks Fodlan.”

Holst looked back to the boy. “Is that true? Can you understand me?” Khalid just stared at him, confusion written on his face.

“What did you say to him?” Holst asked.

“I told him it was gonna be okay and the adults were coming, and he calmed down.”

“Oh. It was probably just your tone, Hildy. He can understand your tone without actually knowing what you said.” Holst turned to the translator. “Can you ask him what happened yesterday?”

She asked the boy, and he responded quickly. “He says he was watching Hilda play from the window and he fell out.”

“That’s not true,” Hilda said.

“Oh? What did you see, Hilda?” Holst asked.

“He climbed out the window on purpose. He was trying to jump from ledge to ledge. He wanted to get to the ground, I think.”

“The door was locked, so that would have been his only escape route,” the nurse added.

Holst turned back to Khalid. “Were you trying to climb out the window?’

Khalid shook his head before the translator had time to repeat Holst’s sentence.

“See! He knows what we’re saying!” Hilda shouted, pointing at him. Khalid flinched.

Holst raised an eyebrow. “It does seem so. But why would he pretend not to speak Fodlan?” 

Khalid quickly gave his explanation to the translator. “He understands a little bit of Fodlan, but he can’t speak it. It’s easier for him to listen to me so he knows what he’s being asked,” she said.

“Ah. That makes sense,” Holst said. “I didn’t realize the Almyran nobles learned Fodlan. But you say you weren’t climbing out the window?” Khalid shook his head again.

“I’m not lying, Hol!” Hilda yelled.

“I believe you, Hilda. Regardless, Khalid, we’re going to be watching you much closer from now on, so I wouldn’t suggest pulling such a stunt again.” Khalid nodded, frowning. “Good. I’ll be back in a bit with the Duke to discuss security.” As Holst and Hilda turned to leave the infirmary, Hilda felt Khalid’s eyes boring into her back.

-

Hilda’s father had originally planned to keep Khalid secured in one of the guest rooms, but after that little incident it was decided that he needed to be kept in the basement cells of the Goneril estate. That’s what Holst told her, anyways, as they descended the dim stone stairs.

“We’re not going to keep visiting him after this. I’m just making sure he’ll be okay outside of the infirmary,” he told her. Hilda nodded.

The cells weren’t particularly comfortable. They were clean enough, but the stone walls made the rooms cold, and the lumpy mattress and rickety chairs provided were significantly worse than anywhere else in the castle. So it wasn't exactly surprising that Khalid looked a bit bitter to be there. He regarded the siblings coldly as they approached his cell.

“Hello, Prince Khalid,” Holst said. “My translator’s out sick today - can you understand me okay?” Khalid nodded, crossing his arms. “Good. Are you feeling okay?”

Khalid shook his head at that. When Holst asked him what was wrong, he pointed to his head and his leg.

“You’re probably going to hurt for the next few days, kiddo.” That answer didn’t seem to satisfy the boy - he pointed again, more animatedly.

“This isn't working. I should just go get another translator. Hilda, you can stay here - he shouldn’t be able to run off or anything. I’ll be right back.” Holst ran up the stairs and left the two children alone. 

Hilda looked at Khalid. “Your leg hurts?” 

“Yes.”

It was a simple enough answer, but after hearing nothing but Almyran from the boy for nearly a week, Hilda was surprised to get an answer at all. “Can you say anything else in Fodlan?” she asked.

Khalid seemed to think for a moment, then turned to her and opened his mouth. “I can say a lot in Fodlan.”

Her eyes widened. “Woah, what?! Why haven’t you been talking like that the whole time?”

A small smirk crossed his face, the first pleased expression he’d made during their interactions. “I don’t wanna talk to them. I thought it could be our little secret.”

“I really should tell my brother that-”

“Why? I’m not gonna talk to him even if you do. And I’ll stop talking to you.”

Hilda narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s still easier for me to speak Almyran. But I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“I’m not gonna help you run off, if that’s what you want.” She crossed her arms, trying to look intimidating.

“I know you won’t. I just don’t get to talk to other kids my age much.”

That gave Hilda pause. “Don’t you have friends in Almyra?”

“Not really.” He was twisting something in his hands now - Hilda looked closely and realized it was his headband, stained with blood.

“So you just want to be friends?” She raised an eyebrow. It didn’t seem very likely to her, but he was a weird kid from what she could tell.

He shrugged. “It’s lonely down here. And knowing my father, I’ll be here awhile.”

She thought about that. She really should just tell her brother that the boy spoke Fodlan. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t believe her, even if Khalid pretended not to. But she was tired of hanging out with the same few girls every day. And he was interesting, to say the least.

“Okay. We can be friends. And I won’t tell my brother.” She stuck her hand through the slats of the cell, pinky outstretched. He just stared at it.

“It’s a pinky swear, dummy! You wrap your pinky around mine.

Khalid did so, and Hilda gave their entwined fingers a small shake.

“There. We pinky swore on it, so now we’re friends. No take-backs on a pinky swear.”

He looked up and smiled at her. “Friends. That sounds good.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, Count Gloucester showed up.

Hilda figured it had something to do with Khalid. She didn't know the details, and she didn't care to. All she knew was that the sooner he left, the better. He always came into Goneril territory like he owned it, treated Hilda like a baby, and inevitably said something that pissed Holst off before leaving. Hilda knew that much from the amount of times she'd heard her brother call the Count an "insufferable prick with an ego the size of Adrestia."

And his son was annoying, too.

"Hilda, stop!" Lorenz whined. "My hair is fine!"

"It looks like a dead purple raccoon on your head," Hilda told him before ripping the brush through another section of his hair.

"Owww! Stop! Mother just brushed it this morning!"

"Oh, hush," she replied, reaching into the pink bag beside her and pulling out a barrette with a red ribbon attached. "I'm gonna make it look better."

Lorenz turned slightly to see Hilda wielding the accessory. Horror quickly dawned on his face. "No! The future Duke of the Alliance is NOT going to wear bows in his hair!"

"Oh yes you are!" Hilda quickly grabbed the back of Lorenz's shirt to prevent him from running off. She grabbed a chunk of hair with the other hand and quickly snapped the bow into place. Lorenz scrambled to pull it out, but he didn't know how to unclip a barrette. Instead, he ripped the ornament out with a good amount of hair attached.

"Owwwww!" He whined again. 

"You can't just pull barrettes out, dummy," Hilda said.

"How was I to know that?"

"Everybody knows that! It's not dark magic, Lorenz!" She huffed.

"I have more important things to learn than barrettes." Lorenz stuck his nose in the air with that, though his show of self-importance was diminished by his sniffle at the end.

Hilda rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, cause you're gonna be the Duke or whatever. You know the Riegans are in charge, right?"

Lorenz looked down at her with what Hilda knew to be his "I'm-about-to-quote-my-father" look. "The Riegans are on the decline, especially since the disappearance of Tiana."

"You know not everything your dad says is true, right?"

"Yes, it is! My father knows everything about the Alliance" Lorenz crossed his arms and glared at Hilda.

She just signed and flopped back on her bed. Lorenz was annoying, and he was a crybaby. The only reason she was playing with him is because her father, Count Gloucester, and Holst were in the basement with Khalid, and she couldn't visit him while they were there.

Khalid and Hilda couldn't really play much, since he was in a cell, but he had lots of really cool stories. Hilda only knew about Almyra from her brother, and the way Khalid talked about it made it seem like a totally different place.

"My brothers and I wrestle all the time," he said once. "They're all older than me, so they always win, but I'm getting good. I think I might be able to beat Faris soon. He's my youngest brother."

"You wrestle? Why?" Hilda crinkled her nose. Wrestling sounded sweaty and hard and not fun at all.

"To see who eats first, or who gets the good training axe, or who gets to wrestle our baba. We wrestle for lots of things. Don't you ever wrestle your brother?"

"What? No! Holst is ten years older than me, we don't fight!"

"No, there's a difference between wrestling and fighting. Like, you can't bite people or use a knife when you wrestle."

"Still, he'd hurt me. I'm delicate," she said, using her favorite word. 

"Lots of girls your age wrestle in Almyra. I know a girl in the village, Alia, who can beat my brother Faris easy. And me too."

“Well, I’m not Alia.”

Of course, Khalid was just as incredulous about the things Hilda said about Fodlan.

“Dad got another message proposing marriage for me,” Hilda said, rolling her eyes.

“Marriage?” Khalid asked.

“You don’t have marriage in Almyra?”

“Of course we have marriage! But kids don’t get married, that’s weird!”

“Kids don’t actually get married here either. But a lot of nobles get engaged young and then marry when they’re older. Sometimes you get engaged at birth.”

“People get to tell you who to marry?” he frowned.

“I mean, yeah. You have to marry someone important, and you have to marry someone you can have kids with so you can carry on the crest.”

“Crests are the things in your blood, right? Do you have one?”

“Yep. Me and my brother both have the Crest of Goneril, but his is major and mine’s minor.”

“What about the Crest of Riegan?” he asked.

“What about it?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Does anyone have that?”

“Yeah, Duke Oswald von Riegan. He’s the leader of the Alliance. His daughter did too, but she’s gone now.”

“Where’d she go?”

“She disappeared. No one knows. Why are you asking all that anyways?”

“Uh. Your brother mentioned Riegan, I think. I know I heard it somewhere.”

Hilda shrugged. She was used to weird questions from him. “Anyways, some noble in Faerghus wants to get me and his son engaged. Faerghus! Do you know how cold it is there?”

“No. But I don’t like the cold either,” Khalid agreed.

“Right? I’d probably freeze to death there. Luckily dad said no. I don’t think he’d send me to Faerghus. Unless the prince wanted to marry me, I guess.”

“Faerghus has a prince?”

“Yeah, Prince Dimitri. He’s my age, I think.”

“I thought they had an emperor, not a king.”

“No, no, Adrestia has an emperor. But the emperor calls his kids princes and princesses too.”

“So are the Duke’s kids princes?”

“No. We don’t have any princes here. That’s not how it works.”

“Fodlan’s complicated. You should just all have kings,” he said.

“I didn’t make the rules,” she shrugged.

Hilda was thinking back to that conversation when Lorenz’s nasally voice interrupted her thoughts. “You need to act more like a noble, Hilda.”

“I’m not gonna lead the territory, Holst is. I get to do whatever I want.”

“You’re still a noble! You need to set a good example.”

“And you need to stop whining all the time,” she said.

“Hey, shut up!”

“Telling people to shut up isn’t very noble, is it Lorenz?”

He crossed his arms and glared. “Well, you’re being a meanie.”

Hilda was about to reply when the door opened. Holst’s pink hair popped into the doorway. “Hey, Hil. Are you two having fun?”

“No,” they replied at the same time.

“Great. Gloucester wants to table the discussions until lunch, so come eat with us.”

She groaned. “Do I have to? Gloucester’s gonna be an ass again.”

Lorenz sputtered and looked between Holst and Hilda, waiting for her to be reprimanded for calling his father such a word.

“Yep, you have to. And watch your language, he’s gonna be even more pissy if Lorenz picks up your mouth.”

“I would never!” Lorenz shouted.

“C’mon, mini-ass. Let’s eat.” Hilda grabbed Lorenz’ arm and pulled him out the door, ignoring her brother’s glare.

Count Gloucester and Duke Goneril did not seem to have “tabled the discussion,” as they were clearly arguing about something when the trio entered the dining hall. However, Gloucester quickly abandoned the conversation to greet Hilda. 

“How are you, Lady Hilda?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied.

“I hope you’ve been treating my son nicely, now,” he chuckled.

“She hasn’t,” Lorenz grumbled.

That didn’t seem to please Gloucester. “Lorenz, what did I say before we came here?”

The boy sighed. “A noble doesn’t complain about his hosts.”

“Good. Now c’mon, let’s not leave the Duke waiting.”

At least the food was good - steak and potatoes, one of Hilda’s favorites. She shoveled her food in fast enough that her father interrupted with a chuckle to tell her to slow down. Lorenz, meanwhile, was picking at his meat until his father put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small glare. He ate quickly after that, though he didn’t seem to enjoy it.

Everyone was finishing their plates when Count Gloucester finally spoke up. “Now really, I do implore you to reconsider, Hortense.”

Hilda’s father huffed. “Let’s not talk politics in front of the children, Lucius.”

“You know, they’ll be involved in all this before we know it. I often let Lorenz sit in on my dealings.” Lorenz sat up straighter and puffed out his chest at that.

“You really want the children involved in this? Gossiping to the servants about it?” he challenged. Gloucester didn’t reply.

“Hilda, Lorenz, why don’t you two run off and play?” Holst proposed. They quickly nodded and fled the Duke’s smouldering anger.

-

All day, Hilda had wanted to visit Khalid, but she couldn’t manage to ditch Lorenz. So after Holst sent her to bed, she decided to sneak out under the cover of darkness to see her friend.

There were guards roaming the grounds, of course, but Hilda knew where most of them were and how to avoid them. She managed to get halfway to the basement before the sound of footsteps sent her diving for cover behind a bush. She peered out from the leaves and saw…

“Lorenz?” she called out in surprise. The boy turned and saw her face emerging from the bush.

“Hilda?” he said.

“What are you doing on the grounds?” she asked.

“Oh, um. There were weird noises in my room.” he looked down at his feet and kicked up some dirt. “I was looking for mother’s room.”

“She’s not anywhere near here,” Hilda said.

“Oh. What are you doing, anyways?”

“I live here. I can be out at night if I want,” she said.

Lorenz didn’t buy it. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re doing something bad, aren’t you?”

“No!”

“I’m going to tell my father that you-”

“He’s not the boss of me! And if you tell him that, I’m gonna tell him that you were scared and looking for your mommy.”

“Don’t tell my father that!” Lorenz shouted.

“Then don’t tell anyone I’m out here,” Hilda said.

“At least tell me what you’re doing,” he said. 

“No.”

“You could be working for the enemy for all I know!”

“Enemy? What enemy? And I’m eight, I don’t work for anybody.”

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you do whatever you want. That wouldn’t be noble of me.”

“You Gloucesters!” she hissed. “Fine. You can come with me, but you can’t tell anyone. Or else I’ll say you peed your pants too.”

“I did not!”

“Then you better keep your mouth shut, yeah?”

The boy grumbled something about blackmail, but he finally agreed and followed Hilda to the basement. It took longer than usual, having to shush Lorenz so they could sneak around the guard stationed between the stairwell and Khalid’s cell, but they made it without being caught. She started to run when she turned the corner and saw a familiar lump of yellow fabric.

“Khalid!” she whisper-yelled as she approached. She realized too late that he had been sleeping. He raised his head slowly, then sat up quick when he saw her face.

“Hilda!” he smiled. The smile quickly fell when Lorenz stepped up beside the girl.

“What’s going on?” Lorenz asked.

“Lorenz, this is my friend Khalid. Khalid, this is Lorenz. He’s our age, and he promised not to tell anyone.”

“You’re friends with the Almyran prince?” Lorenz asked.

Khalid looked Lorenz up and down and frowned more. “Lorenz?”

“He’s Count Gloucester’s son,” Hilda explained.

“Hilda, this is highly inappropriate!” Lorenz hissed.

“Hilda, this is highly inappropriate!” Hilda repeated mockingly. “Don’t be such a baby, Lorenz.”

Khalid said something in Almyran, causing Lorenz to frown. “Does he even understand us?”

“Yes he does! He speaks Fodlan, he talks to me all the time. C’mon, Khalid, it’s okay.”

Khalid spoke in Almyran again.

“He clearly doesn’t understand us, Hilda,” Lorenz said. “Stop pretending.”

“I swear he speaks Fodlan!” Hilda turned to Khalid, hands on her hips. “You’re making me look like a liar!” she yelled. He shot back at her in Almyran, and though Hilda didn’t speak the language, she was pretty sure whatever he said was an insult.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, Prince Khalid,” Lorenz said. “Hilda, c’mon. It’s not funny anymore.”

But just then, Hilda remembered what she’d hid in her jacket. “I brought you some chocolate,” she told Khalid, pulling the candy from her pocket.

Khalid’s eyes lit up when he spotted the candy, and he reached out for it. Hilda shook her head. “You gotta talk first.”

Khalid rolled her eyes. “Give me the chocolate.”

Lorenz’s eyes widened into dinner plates. “Woah.”

Hilda handed Khalid the chocolate, and he eagrily tore into the treat. Lorenz looked at Hilda incredulously. “I thought the Duke said he only spoke Almyran.”

“He only talks to me,” Hilda bragged.

“And you haven’t told your father?”

“No. Khalid’s my friend, and he doesn’t wanna talk to my dad.”

“Well, I’m going to tell my father,” he declared.

“I just won’t talk to him and then you’ll look like a liar,” Khalid said as he took another bite.

“And then I’ll tell your dad that you’re a scaredy-cat,” Hilda added.

Lorenz pulled at his hair. “You’re siding with the Almyran prince?” He cried.

“It’s not ‘siding’ with anyone. We’re friends,” Hilda said.

Unfortunately, Lorenz’s last outburst had got the attention of the guard. They heard footsteps echo loudly off the concrete floors. Hilda quickly grabbed the other boy’s arm and pulled him around the corner.

They heard the guard stop at Khalid’s cell. “Was someone speaking Fodlan?” he asked. Khalid must have made some kind of motion, because the footsteps took off in the other direction.

Lorenz let out a loud sniffle, and Hilda smothered him with her hand for a moment. “Shut up!” she hissed. 

The boy looked on the verge of tears. “We’re going to get in trouble,” he sniffed.

“Not if we don’t get caught. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

The two managed to get back onto the grounds without incident. As soon as they were above ground, Lorenz let out a sob.

“Why are you crying? We didn’t even get caught,” Hilda griped. Lorenz just suppressed another sob. “You’re a crybaby,” she said.

“Father will be so mad at me,” Lorenz wailed.

“He’s not gonna find out. You promised not to tell him, remember?” Hilda said. Lorenz nodded. “So stop crying. Nobody knows.” 

“Okay,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“Now go back to your room before you do get caught.”

She gave Lorenz a light shove in the direction of the guest rooms before turning back towards her own room. She walked slowly so that her footsteps weren’t too loud.

On the way back to her room, Hilda passed by a room with the door cracked and a lamp lit inside. She didn’t think much of this until she heard her brother’s voice coming from it.

“That wouldn’t be right and you know it.”

What was Holst doing up so late? And who was he talking to? Hilda crouched near the doorway and listened.

“Holst is right,” her father’s voice said. “Just as I said the last three times, Lucius, he’s only a child.”

“A child of the Almyran king,” Gloucester’s voice replied. “Do you think Nasir would be so kind if he got his hands on Hilda?”

“We don’t have to stoop to their level,” Holst said.

“The border war has gone on long enough. The Almyrans will never desist if they don’t think we mean business.”

“We mean business. We’ve won the last three battles,” the Duke replied.

“Yet we still lost men. You’re content to let good Alliance men die for the sake of one Almyran?”

“A child,” Holst said. “An Almyran child.”

“His father seemed to think he was fit for the battlefield.”

“Well, maybe your conscience can take murdering a seven year old, Gloucester, but mine can’t.” Anger brimmed in Holst’s words.

“Holst,” the Duke warned.

“No, father, I don’t think he gets it. There’s a difference between fighting a war and putting your sword through a child because you’re mad at his father.”

“I never explicitly said you should kill him. I’m just saying that keeping him in a clean cell until the king suddenly feels like bargaining doesn’t seem much of a threat.”

“So what? What do you want us to do, Gloucester?”

“I’m not here to tell you what to do-”

“Bullshit. That’s exactly what you’re here to do.”

“Holst!” the Duke roared.

“Whatever. I’m not talking about this anymore.” A loud chair scoot was heard.

Hilda scuttled away from the door, heart racing. Did she hear that right? Count Gloucester wanted to hurt Khalid? Her family would never allow it, she knew. Holst had very clearly been pissed at the suggestion. But one thing was clear to Hilda.

As long as the Gloucesters were here, Khalid wasn’t safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I also intended for this part to be a little longer, but that's how the cookie crumbles. I have no idea how some of the fics on here are hundreds of thousands of words, I can't write five thousand without passing out.
> 
> Anyways, Lorenz is here! What will happen next?
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, it always makes my day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence in this chapter! It's not graphic, but I thought I'd give a warning all the same.

“Lorenz. Lorenz! Looooorenz. Lorenz Hetman Gloucester.”

“It’s Hellman,” Lorenz said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t care. You didn’t tell your dad what happened last night, did you?” Hilda pointed an accusing finger in his direction.

“No!” Lorenz snapped. “I said I wouldn’t, stop bothering me about it!”

“Alright! Geez,” Hilda backed off, hands held up in surrender. “I was just making sure. He really doesn’t need to know now.”

“What do you mean ‘now?’”

“Oh shit. I mean crap,” she amended as Lorenz took on an offended look. “I didn’t say that.”

“You did. Did my father find something out?” He gulped as he asked the question.

“No. It’s just…” Hilda really didn’t want to tell Lorenz what she’d heard his father say. Lorenz wouldn’t believe her anyways. And her dad and Holst already knew. The only person she should tell was Khalid, she decided. Khalid was smart, maybe he’d have an idea. “Forget about it.”

Lorenz pouted. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“Well, get used to it. Everybody lies.”

Those weren’t Hilda’s words. They were Khalid’s. He’d told her that the first day they’d started talking, when Hilda asked him again why he lied about not being able to talk. She hadn’t liked him saying it at first, but she had decided that the words made her sound grown-up. Khalid sure sounded grown-up when he said things like that.

“That’s not true,” Lorenz muttered, but he clearly didn’t feel like debating the matter.

“Anyways, I’m gonna go talk to Khalid today, so you’ll have to play by yourself.”

“But I wanna go with you.”

Hilda blinked. “What?”

Lorenz’s face turned red, and he crossed his arms and looked away. “Well, why should you be the only one with weird Almyran friends!?”

“Lorenz, you nearly passed out down there yesterday.”

“Well I’m not gonna do it again!” he shouted, but immediately got embarrassed at his own tone. “I wanna talk to him too,” he said more quietly.

“Okay, but you have to stop yelling all the time.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he promised.

This would be a problem. She couldn’t tell Khalid about Gloucester’s plan with Lorenz there. Maybe she could trick him into leaving for a few minutes by asking him to check for a guard? She’d figure something out. She was smart.

So she brought Lorenz to the basement once again, only getting a nod from the guard at the entrance. When Hilda came in the daytime, the guard always just let her in - she’d snuck in at night so no one knew she was awake. She wondered if he thought she was supposed to be there. He hadn’t told her dad or Holst, she knew, because they would have made her stop. Khalid said he probably didn’t get paid enough to care.

“Hi, Khalid!” she greeted as she approached the cell.

“Hey Hilda!” he replied. “Oh, and what’s your face.”

“Lorenz,” the other boy sniffed, turning his nose up in classic Gloucester fashion.

“Lorenz. I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Apparently he likes you!” Hilda laughed.

“Well, I’ve never met an Almyran who speaks Fodlan! It’s natural to be curious,” he defended.

“Curious. You make me sound like a circus animal.” Khalid said it like a joke, but there was no hint of a smile on his face.

“That- That’s not what I meant at all!” Lorenz sputtered.

Khalid didn’t comment, only turned back to Hilda. “Did you bring me more chocolate?”

“I just saw you last night. I need more time than that to steal food,” she griped.

“You’ve been stealing that food? From who?” Lorenz demanded.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Lorenz. I just take it from the pantries. My dad owns all that food anyways.”

Lorenz didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. “You start with stealing food from the pantry, and soon enough you’re stealing jewelry from castles,” he said.

“Is that something your dad told you?” Hilda taunted. Lorenz didn’t reply, which was answer enough.

“You said your dad was a Count, right?” Khalid suddenly asked.

Lorenz stood up straighter and puffed out his chest. “He’s the noble Count Gloucester,” he said proudly.

“And an ass,” Hilda added. Lorenz stamped his foot and shouted some defense, but Khalid laughed, so her joke was totally worth it.

“That’s what my-” Khalid jolted and quickly shut his mouth.

“Your what?” Lorenz asked, forgetting his anger for a moment.

“Nothing,” Khalid said.

Lorenz narrowed his eyes and looked between the boy and Hilda. “You two have a secret,” he decided.

Actually, Hilda’s secret had nothing to do with Khalid’s comment. He’d done that a few times during their conversations - started to say something and stopped mid-sentence. Hilda was curious, of course, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her if she pushed. Lorenz didn’t share the sentiment. “If you’re planning on letting him out, Hilda, I have to tell my father.”

“I’m not,” she griped. She wasn’t going to resort to that unless she had to.

“Aw, Hilda, you’re not?” Khalid pouted, though Hilda knew it to be fake.

“You shouldn’t make fun of the person who brings you candy, Khalid.”

“That’s fair,” the boy said.

Lorenz still looked at them suspiciously, but he seemed temporarily convinced that there was no breakout plan. “So are you the heir of Almyra?” he asked Khalid.

“Oh, no way. My brother Luay is gonna be king. He’s almost an adult.”

“What if Luay was killed?” Lorenz asked.

“Lorenz!” Hilda hissed, nudging him. Luckily, Khalid didn’t seem offended.

“Well, then it’d be Rashad. And then Faris.”

“And they’re all your brothers?”

“Half-brothers. Their mom was the first queen; mine’s the second. Baba’s got some other kids too, but they live with their moms in the village, so we don’t see them much. Only the queen’s kids get to live in the palace.”

“And do you have younger siblings?”

“Nope. I’m the second queen’s only kid.”

“And the second queen is…?”

“Why?” Khalid narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I heard people don’t know much about the second queen.”

“Because she doesn’t like nosy people like you in her business.” 

Lorenz huffed. “I just asked you her name!”

“And a million other questions! Maybe I don’t wanna answer questions all day!” Khalid shouted back.

“Guys, stop yelling!” Hilda butt in. 

“Maybe we should just leave, Hilda,” Lorenz grumbled.

It was there that Hilda saw her opportunity. “Fine. Go check and see if the guard’s still there first.”

Lorenz turned and stomped towards the guard’s direction. If he was there, he could certainly hear them. But that wasn’t Hilda’s concern.

She turned to Khalid once the boy had turned the corner. “Gloucester wants to kill you.”

“What?” Khalid’s eyes widened.

“I heard him talking to my dad last night. He said that they should kill you so that your dad knows they’re serious.”

Khalid jumped to his feet. “Then you’ve gotta let me out.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” He demanded, surging closer to the bars. Hilda instinctively backed up.

“You think they just give eight year old girls the keys to the dungeons?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Khalid started pacing his cell. “But you have to get them.”

“My brother told Gloucester he won’t let him hurt you,” Hilda said.

Khalid barked a laugh. “I’m not trusting my life to Holst Goneril.”

Something in his tone irked Hilda. She crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you know how many Almyran’s your brother’s killed?” Khalid said.

“That’s on the battlefield. And you’re just a kid. He wouldn’t kill you.”

“That’s what he says now.”

“My brother’s not a liar!” she shouted.

“Everyone’s a liar!” Khalid yelled back. 

“Not everyone! Not my brother!”

“Hilda?”

The girl spun around at the voice and saw Count Gloucester standing at the end of the hall. He had one hand gripping Lorenz’s shoulder, and the boy was staring at the ground in shame.

“Shit,” she hissed.

“Who were you talking to?” Gloucester asked. He scanned the room before landing on Khalid.

“Myself,” she said.

“Were you speaking to the prisoner?”

“Uh, no. He doesn’t speak Fodlan.”

Khalid said something in Almyran as if to prove her point.

“Regardless, you shouldn’t be down here with him. Come on, now. Your brother has been looking for you.”

Hilda trudged towards Gloucester, hanging her head. When she reached Lorenz, she whisper-hissed “You told him.”

“I didn’t,” Lorenz muttered back.

Gloucester put his other hand on Hilda’s shoulder and dragged her out.

-

Lucius Gloucester’s feet echoed down the cold basement hall.

His son had told him that the little prince could speak Fodlan from the very beginning, of course. As a general rule, Lucius didn’t care for children, but having a set of ears around the other nobles’ brats had its uses.

The guard had simply let him pass. Of course he did. No one denied Lucius Gloucester.

The halls were dimly lit with torches, but Gloucester also used the soft blue glow from the device in his left hand to help navigate. The boy’s cell wasn’t far in the dungeon, so he arrived there quickly. The boy was asleep as he first approached, but Gloucester’s footfalls woke him quick enough. He sat up and squinted at the man as he set the device by his feet.

“I know you speak Fodlan,” he told the boy.

He put on a good show of looking confused.

“Cut the act. My son told me you spoke to him.”

The boy spoke in Almyran.

“If you’d like, I can have the guard come ask you to speak.”

“I said your son’s a snitch,” the boy spat.

There it was. “Oh, he didn’t tell me quite how fluent you were.”

“And he didn’t tell me how much of an ass you were.”

Gloucester only chuckled. “Quite a mouth you have for a little prince. What would your mother say?”

“She’d call you worse.”

Gloucester raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? The mysterious queen of Almyra has a dirty tongue? I’ll bear it in mind.”

The boy quickly shut his mouth.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to tell me what I want to know about the Almyran kingdom. And I’ll ensure the Gonerils don’t know about your sudden language acquisition.”

“Or else what?”

Gloucester extended his hand, letting a few embers flicker between his fingers. “You don’t want to discover the alternative, little prince.”

“I have a name,” he growled.

“I know your name,” Gloucester barked back. “Khalid Rais Quadir, Father Nasir Luay Quadir, brothers Luay, Rashad, and Faris Quadir. What I don’t know, little prince, is your mother’s name.”

“Go to hell,” the boy replied.

“What is the king hiding to refer to his wife only as Queen Nasir, hm? And why do you look so different from your brothers?”

“Mama says it’s because I’m special.”

“Don’t give me bullshit answers,” Gloucester hissed. “Your mother’s Fodlan, isn’t she?”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“I’m sure your father’s subjects would love to hear that little tidbit.”

“The Almyrans know about mama. You think she never goes out in public? You think they don’t notice I look different? She hides it so Fodlaners like you don’t know.”

“I hardly think ‘Fodlaners like me’ care that a random Alliance woman ran off with the Almyran king. Unless, of course, she’s a noblewoman?”

Khalid just glared.

“Such as Duke Oswald's daughter who mysteriously went missing eight years ago?”

No response.

“That certainly would throw House Riegan into a state. Though there’s no way to prove it, of course. That is, unless you carry your mother’s crest.”

“I don’t,” the boy said quickly.

“You’re most likely right. But it couldn’t hurt to test, right?” He picked up the device by his feet.

Khalid quickly scrambled to the back of his cell, eyes widening in fear. Gloucester merely smiled and called the guard over.

-

Holst had been mad that Hilda was visiting Khalid, but since he didn’t know the boy spoke Fodlan, he assumed she was just carrying on one-sided conversations for her own amusement. He chewed her out and assigned extra guards to the area to ensure she didn’t sneak down there again, but eventually sent her to her room and left it at that. Hilda had cried herself to sleep, upset both about being yelled at by Holst and not being allowed to see Khalid anymore.

She was shaken awake what felt like minutes later by a frantic Lorenz.

“Hilda! Hilda, wake up!” he urged, gripping her shoulders.

“Whatwhatwhat!” she cried, sitting bolt upright.

“Hilda, I’m scared,” Lorenz said.

She blinked. “Then go see your mom again.”

“No, not scared like that! I… I told my father e-everything about Khalid, Hilda.” 

As the girl rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she realized the boy was on the verge of tears. “What do you mean?”

“Father… My Father makes me tell him everything that you tell me. He says that i-if I wanna be a good noble one day I have to do whatever he says. So I told him about Khalid and he said I should try to find out w-who his mother is.”

“That’s why you were asking,” Hilda said, pieces starting to connect in her mind.

“And since I didn’t find out he said he was gonna g-go find out himself, and I’m scared that if, if Khalid doesn’t tell him he’s gonna hurt him!” Lorenz burst into tears at that.

Hilda sat awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to react. She’d seen Lorenz cry before, of course, but never about something like this.

“We’ve gotta go get Khalid,” she finally said.

Lorenz looked up, managing to contain himself after a few more moments of crying. “B-but how? The guard won’t let us in anymore.”

Hilda thought. “Maybe we can bribe them?”

“We don’t have any m-money.”

“We’ll figure something out. But we should go now. C’mon.” she grabbed Lorenz’s arm and tried to drag him out the door, but he stayed rooted to her bed.

“I can’t run in there and stop Father! He, he’ll…” Lorenz began to cry again.

“Lorenz, Khalid might die if we don’t do something!”

“But Father…”

“But nothing! We’ve gotta do the right thing! Isn’t that what you’re always saying? That nobles do the right thing?”

“Father says that-”

“I don’t care what your father says! Do you think it’s right that he’s gonna hurt Khalid?”

Lorenz wiped his nose with the back of his hand and stuttered out a “No.”

“Then we’ve gotta do something! C’mon!” 

Lorenz finally stood up and let Hilda pull him out the door.

Hilda was certain she’d come up with a brilliant plan by the time they approached the basement, but as the guard posted in front of the stairs came into view, she had nothing. She walked up to the guard anyways.

The guard raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t supposed to be here,” he said.

Hilda gave her best puppy-dog eyes. “I just wanted to say goodbye to my friend.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t allow it.”

Hilda opened her mouth, ready to try something else, when an arrow whizzed right past her face and hit the guard in the hip, right between his chestplate and pants.

“SHIT!” The guard shouted, falling to his knees.

Lorenz yelped and hid behind Hilda. The girl spun in the direction the arrow came from and saw a man dressed in yellows and greens holding a bow, staring straight at the children. Another man, this one taller and carrying an axe, stepped out of the shadows and stood beside the first. He turned and said something to his companion in a language Hilda didn’t understand.

“Please don’t kill us!” Lorenz shouted, gripping Hilda’s arm tightly. 

The taller man lowered his axe and took a step towards them. “We are here not to hurt you,” he said, this time in heavily accented Fodlan. Hilda recognized the accent - it was like Khalid’s, but thicker.

Hilda was as terrified as Lorenz, but she tried to step up and speak, since the younger boy clearly would not. “A-are you here for Khalid?”

The man’s face lit up. “You know where he is?”

She nodded meekly. The man with the bow came forward, speaking again in Almyran.

“Take us to him,” the man with the axe commanded.

Hilda stepped past the guard, who was on the ground, trying to pull the arrow from his hip. The two men ignored him entirely. Lorenz was crying again, and his grip on her arm was starting to hurt.

The group descended the stairs in the dim light. They had barely made it to the end of the first hall when they heard a young boy’s cry, then an adult voice shout “SHIT!”

“Khalid!” The man with the bow cried out, sprinting towards the voices. The other three ran to catch up to him.

When they rounded the corner to Khalid’s cell, they saw the man pointing his bow at Count Gloucester. Gloucester and the guard had Khalid pulled out of the cell, and the guard had Khalid’s arms pinned behind his back with one hand and the other clasped over the boy’s mouth. Khalid thrashed wildly in his grasp. Gloucester was cradling his left hand in his right, and by his knees sat a small knife and a lantern-like device that emitted blue light. Hilda recognized it as a Crest analyzer, the same kind her family had used to test her for a Crest last year.

“Father!” Lorenz cried out, still hiding behind Hilda.

“Lorenz? What are you doing here?” Gloucester hissed.

Upon the realization that Lorenz was Gloucester’s son, the man who stood behind Hilda suddenly lunged out and grabbed the boy by the back of his pajamas. Lorenz cried out, and he was pulled from Hilda’s arm.

“Let Khalid go!” The man yelled, holding his axe threateningly close to Lorenz. The boy took one look at the weapon’s sharp edge and broke into renewed, frantic sobs.

Hilda scrambled away from the two as quickly as possible and threw a glance back at the other Almyran man, worried he might grab her. But his gaze never left Khalid and Gloucester.

“Now, now,” Gloucester said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Hilda could see now that there was a wicked bite mark on his left hand - Khalid’s work, no doubt. “There’s no need to resort to violence, here. Why don’t you put my son down and we can figure something out?”

“Make him let go of Khalid, then,” the man shot back.

“What, so your friend can shoot me? I don’t think so.”

“He won’t shoot if you let go. We’re just here for Khalid.”

Gloucester smirked, all too confident for the position he was in. “Okay, then. Answer my questions and I’ll give your prince back.”

The man with the bow shouted in Almyran, but his companion interrupted him. “Ask your question, then. But we may not answer.”

“Who is the boy’s mother?”

“I don’t know. Some Fodlan woman. I don’t speak to the queen often.”

Gloucester raised an eyebrow. “That sounds… convenient for you. Then I’ll ask this. Does he have a Crest?”

“Why would he have a Crest?”

“Answer the question.”

“No. I have no idea why he would.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I used this device to check?” Gloucester raised the Crest analyzer in the air.

Khalid thrashed again when Gloucester held up the device, and the guard released his mouth to keep hold of him.

“No!” he screamed before the guard’s hand flew back up to his mouth. Gloucester turned to look at the boy, and as soon as his head was turned, the Almyran man fired his bow. The arrow hit Gloucester in the shoulder, and the man fell to the ground with a cry. The guard released Khalid in surprise, and he ran straight for the man with the axe. “Nader!” he cried.

Nader immediately released Lorenz and caught the boy in a hug. Khalid buried his face in the man’s shoulder and began babbling in Almyran. Lorenz, meanwhile, hit the floor like a ragdoll and continued to sob.

The man with the bow pointed his weapon at the guard. The guard took the hint and promptly ran out of the room.

Hilda rushed forwards and dragged Lorenz away from the group. “Shh, Lorenz, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered as he whimpered and buried himself in her arms.

As she looked up from Lorenz’s crying form, she saw Nader carefully hand Khalid to his companion. He then turned to Gloucester and growled, “You’re lucky I don’t want to kill you in front of your kid.”

Gloucester glared up at the man, still gripping the arrow in his shoulder. “How kind of you,” he spat.

Nader kicked Gloucester in the stomach for that, and the Count doubled over in pain. Convinced that he was neutralized for the moment, he walked towards Hilda and Lorenz.

Lorenz cried out again as the man approached, but he only smiled at the children. “Thank you,” he said.

Hilda nodded, eyes wide in terror.

And with that, Nader, Khalid, and their companion walked out of the dungeon and out of Hilda’s life.

Exhaustion hit her the moment the trio were out of sight, and within seconds, she was asleep, with Lorenz still cradled in her arms and Gloucester cursing and struggling to sit up several meters away.

This was going to be a bitch to explain to her brother in the morning.

-

Hilda wasn’t sure she’d like the Officer’s Academy.

It sounded like a lot of work. She was really only there because Holst had insisted, and arguing with Holst Goneril was like arguing with a brick wall. Luckily, there wasn’t much work to do the first day, She just mingled around her classmates, scoping out who to avoid and who to charm into doing her chores. She already knew several of her classmates - Lorenz was here, unfortunately, and she’d met Lysithea and Marianne at various events over the years. The commoners in her class seemed nice enough, and she was pretty sure she could convince Raphael or Ignatz to take care of some of her duties at some point. 

She sat in the Golden Deer’s homeroom, absentmindedly playing with her hair. Professor Manuela had said they were supposed to have their first class meeting here, but their house leader was nowhere to be found.

Hilda would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious - the mysterious new von Riegan heir was the talk of the Alliance. Only the actual Dukes and Counts at the roundtable had met him so far, and Holst hadn’t said much about him. Hilda just hoped he was easy to charm.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was and was met with tan skin and a brown braid. 

Wait a minute. This guy looked familiar.

Claude von Riegan grinned at her. “Did you bring me any chocolate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the conclusion! I'm incredibly tired as I post this, so I apologize for the probably numerous mistakes in this chapter. I might go in and revise later if I ever feel like it.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment: it always makes my day!

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "Golden Antlers" by Glass Animals, which I listened to extensively while writing this.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this! I'm not super satisfied with how it turned out, but then again I rarely am. Thanks for reading!


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